Hurt
by Code LJ
Summary: The enemy isn't always a physical force.  Sometimes, it's fighting our own stubborn fears and insecurities. Usual disclaimers apply.  Please read & review!  Finally completed!
1. Chapter 1

Lady Jaye stared blindly out the window, her mood matching that of the stormy skies outside. She felt as pent up as they did, as if any moment she might burst. However, her storm would be filled with more than just tears.

Sighing, she turned around and stared at the hospital bed where he lay, almost hidden in a maze of tubes and other medical equipment. Tears threatened, but she held back. Now wasn't the time. She had to stay strong, for him. What if he woke up, only to find her blubbering like a fool? He'd end up saying some asinine thing like it was his fault.

She rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself. If only he _would_ wake up, she thought. It had been just a routine mission. Something they had done all the time. How could it go so drastically wrong?

She watched silently as the nurses came in to check on him, jotting down notes on his chart. Normally, her phobia of hospitals kept her far from here. Now, they couldn't get her to leave and had stopped trying. Instead, they turned a blind eye or, worse, a sympathetic glance her way. She'd rather they ignore her as his condition never seemed to change.

His family, of course, had been alerted, and they were on their way. Scarlett had informed her of that the last time she had tried to persuade her to leave, if only for a little while. She needed sleep, she had told her, or at least rest.

Lady Jaye had shrugged in response, telling her she could get rest and food here, if she wanted them. Which she didn't. Reverse psychology hadn't worked on her, either. What would Flint say if he saw her present condition? they tried. He would've done the same for her, she knew, not leaving her side. It was just the way they were.

A damn routine mission.

She sighed, watching the nurses leave, shutting the door quietly behind them.

She walked over to the bed, to the chair she had drawn up as close as possible to the bed. She sat, resting her hand on his, hoping by sheer will power she could awaken him from the coma he had slipped into.

She laid her head on his hand, wishing to feel it softly caressing her face, if only for one more time. It couldn't end like this, could it? The doctors had shaken their heads, telling her there was nothing they could do but wait.

She frowned. Damn doctors, what did they know anyway? She had even thought of trying to move him to a private hospital – she had more than enough money to pay the bills, not to mention a whole host of specialists who would wait on him hand and foot. No, they had told her, he couldn't be moved, not in his condition.

She felt so….useless. Her continued presence didn't seem to help. Her money nor her family's influence couldn't buy his recovery. She sighed again. What good could she do? She just knew she couldn't leave him, not even for a moment. What if he woke up and asked for her? What if….

No, she didn't want her thoughts going there.

Her mind floated back to the specialists. Maybe if she couldn't get him in a private hospital, she could pay them to come here? She knew his present doctors would see it as an insult, but they were already overworked anyway…maybe they'd see it as a blessing? She'd use every penny in her account if she had to, to make sure he got proper care.


	2. Chapter 2

There was a timid knock, then the door opened. She recognized his mother as she took in the scene, her face crumpling. She was joined by her husband, who she leaned on for support. His face showed anger, an emotion Lady Jaye was all too familiar with, regarding the situation.

They finally seemed to notice her, their eyes finding it hard to leave the traumatic scene of their son strapped to the bed with all the medical paraphernalia.

"Allie," Flint's mother whispered, coming over to her and embracing her as she rose to meet her. "I should have known you'd be here."

"Martha," she murmured in response, surprised when Flint's father embraced her as well.

"What are they saying?" he asked her once they separated. "They haven't told us anything."

She sighed for, what, the hundredth time that day? "They aren't telling me much either, other than it's a wait and see situation. He lapsed into a coma, which they tell me is good, so that his body can heal." She shrugged, willing the tears away. She couldn't break down now, not in front of his parents!

"Can you tell us what happened?" Martha whispered. "I know some of its classified, but…"

Lady Jaye waved her hand dismissively. "It was a routine surveillance mission. Just a quick fly by, observe, then come back and report. Only, it didn't quite go as planned," she managed, her voice cracking.

She took a deep breath, drawing strength from somewhere, anywhere. "Flint's plane was shot down. He managed to land, but then all hell broke loose. Oh, sorry," she said quickly, apologizing for cursing, but this time it was Martha who waved her hand.

"It's okay, dear. It obviously describes the scene."

"Anyway," Lady Jaye continued, her voice hoarse. "We managed to get him out of there, but by then he was hurt. Bad. The medics did what they could, but he had already gone into the coma by the time they got him here."

She looked back at the bed, her hand instinctively finding his and grasping it. It almost made her cry that his hand did not tighten in hers in return. "They keep telling me it's okay, that it's just the body's way of trying to heal after trauma, but….."

Flint's father, Henry, nodded. "It doesn't make it any easier."

Lady Jaye hesitated, then decided to plunge onward. "I requested to have him moved to a private hospital, where he could get the care of specialists, but they're telling me no, that he can't be moved in his condition. That, and I didn't have the authority to arrange it," she said, a bitter tone creeping into her voice.

Martha patted her arm knowingly. "Not on paper, maybe, but we all know how Dashiell feels about you, Allie. Whatever you want to do is fine by us, and we'll sign anything you ask us to, if you think it'll help."

She managed to smile her thanks.

Martha continued, frowning. "I'm not sure how we'll pay…"

"Oh, it's covered," she interrupted quickly, not wanting to woman to speculate where the money would come from. While Flint had found out about her family's money and status, she wasn't quite sure she was ready to share that with his family.

"Oh. Well, then…."

They all lapsed into silence, their attention back on the empty shell in the bed. Or at least that's what it felt like, Lady Jaye thought. It barely resembled the normally vital soldier he was. The man in the bed looked feeble, pale, and gaunt. Between the IV tube, respirator, and other apparatus, at some angles, it was hard to even see his face.

Martha frowned, taking more in, now that the initial shock had worn off. "His legs?" she questioned, looking at Lady Jaye again.

She replied slowly, "They don't know. There was some initial injury to his spine and he apparently shattered an ankle bone. With time and therapy, it'll heal, but they're not sure of the long term effects," she finished slowly.

Silence reigned once again, the only sound that of the steady rhythm of the machine that breathed for him.

"Call the specialists, honey, anyone you can get your hands on to help him," Henry spoke in a quiet, authoritative tone. "We'll sign whatever papers are needed for it. He's been like this for days, and I can't see it's making a difference, from what you're saying."

She nodded, glad to finally feel of use. "Let me make some phone calls and see what I can do," she promised them. She hated to leave him, she thought, glancing once more at the bed, but she didn't want his parents to overhear what she had to say.

She left for the visitor's lounge, hoping to find it empty.

She normally did not use her family's influence or name, but today she went all out. Her mother would've been proud, she thought, hanging up later as she made arrangements with the last doctor. A team of specialists would be here within a few hours, some having to fly some distance.

She rubbed her temples where they had begun to throb. She had to get back to his room, just in case…..

But of course, nothing had changed. Delivering the news that the doctors were on their way coaxed small smiles from his parents, but all three felt the same useless feeling as they stared at the man in the bed.

"You know, honey, he thought the world of you. We do as well," Martha said, giving Lady Jaye's hand a squeeze. "I'm glad you're here for him."

"Thanks," she managed to murmur, touched by her sincerity.

"However," continued Martha in a stronger tone, "he would not want to see you looking so tired. I don't mean to be rude, but you look like….well, hell," she stated emphatically. "You need to rest, my dear." She patted her hand. "I know you two are the same. He wouldn't leave your side, just as you won't leave his. I can't make you leave, but I can at least have you rest. Your doctors won't be here for a couple of hours. That's more than enough time to get some rest."

She gestured towards the empty bed next to Flint's. "Take that bed over there and lay down. We'll be on watch and if something happens, we'll wake you up right away. We promise."

"I can't…." she began to protest, only to be interrupted by a yawn. She gave them a sheepish look. "Okay, maybe just for an hour."

Martha turned to her husband. "Henry," she said, her tone authoritative, "go find a doctor and I want to hear a report from him, from his own mouth, not just some nurse!"

He nodded his head and left. Martha turned back to Lady Jaye and gave her a comforting smile. "Now, just lay up there on that bed and I'll get you a blanket."

She felt compelled to obey, because it was his mother, and because she was absolutely exhausted. The fact that she would be woken up if something changed….it gave her a small peace of mind – just enough that had her closing her eyes and falling into a sound sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

She opened her eyes the moment she felt the hand touch her shoulder.

"Sorry to wake you, dear, but your specialists are on their way up," Martha apologized. "Seems they've caused quite the ruckus coming here though," she chuckled. "You might want to get yourself cleaned up a bit before they get here."

Lady Jaye nodded gratefully and made her way to the small bathroom attached to the hospital room. She glanced over at Flint and saw there had been no change. She sighed. Hopefully they would learn something soon.

Splashing water on her face and finger combing her hair, she grimaced at the reflection in the mirror. She really did look rough, she realized, but her appearance had been the last thing on her mind the past few days.

Straightening her shoulders, she mentally prepared herself for the team that would be arriving any moment, grateful that she had insisted on Flint having a private room. It had been hard to manage in a government facility, but it was a time when throwing around money had solved a problem for her. Normally, she didn't like to use her wealth or the family name to gain certain privileges, but this was Dash. He was worth it.

Leaving the small bathroom, she saw the team had already arrived. She recognized a few from the board her mother served on, having had to endure tea and other social gatherings with the few visits to her mother's home. The others she knew by reputation alone.

"Lady Alison," one murmured, causing Martha to give her a quick look.

"Alison is fine," Lady Jaye said quickly, not wanting to deal with the questions that would come later. "Thank you for assembling so quickly."

"It's our pleasure," answered another one, nodding his head. "Especially when it pertains to a Hart."

"His heart?" Martha looked confused. She looked at Lady Jaye. "I thought you said possible spine injury. You didn't say anything about his heart."

Henry rubbed his wife's shoulder. "Let the doctors check him over, honey, and we'll see what they say. Maybe we should take a walk, check out the cafeteria. I sure could use a cup of coffee about now."

Martha, still looking confused, nodded. "I'm sure Allie can handle things for us. You'll call us as soon as they've finished examining him?" she asked her anxiously.

"I definitely will," she replied, patting her pocket where her phone was. She had Martha's number already programmed in its memory.

The specialists hadn't wasted any time and began to examine Flint. Lady Jaye couldn't see through the small crowd gathered at the bedside, so leaned up against the wall, arms folded, and waited.

The floor doctor and head nurse hustled into the room. "What's this all about?" demanded the doctor.

Allie straightened, ready to soothe ruffled feathers.

However, one of the specialists obviously expected this, because he immediately detached himself from the group and stuck out his hand.

"Gerald Brown, neurologist. We were called in on a consult, but would be honored if you would join us and tell us what you've discovered so far."

The doctor's eyes had widened at the name, recognizing it immediately. "Thank you, Dr. Brown. I would love to," he answered, his attitude softening at once.

Lady Jaye chuckled at the diplomacy being played out in front of her. Dr. Brown looked up and winked at her.

After thirty minutes of poking, prodding, murmured comments and observations, the team backed away from the bed.

"We're about ready to give our report," announced Dr. Brown. "You might want to call his mother back in."

Lady Jaye nodded, calling Martha and letting her know.

They must've been close by because it was only a few moments later when Flint's parents returned, both of them looking nervously at the small team of doctors.

Dr. Brown continued to be the spokesperson.

"Dr. Filer here has filled us in on the initial injuries which, we're happy to report, seem to be healing at a normal rate. The coma, while frightening for family members," he said, giving them a gentle smile, "is the body's way of trying to heal after a traumatic event such as this. However, we can never be too sure of any ill effects once he awakes. Sometimes patients suffer from temporary amnesia or even psychotic episodes after it. Other times," he shrugged, "it's like they are waking up from a night's rest with nothing wrong. I'm thinking, though, since the injuries to Mr. Faireborn were confined to his legs and spine, we may observe some confusion, but it will probably be only short-term."

Dr. Brown looked at the doctor next to him who introduced himself as Michael Bone. He smiled as he told them he was the orthopedist. "I've been asked if I changed my name once I chose my profession but sadly, I was given it at birth." He chuckled, as if this was an old joke. He then grew serious. "After examining the x-rays taken at the hospital, as well as my own observations, I'm afraid that your son is going to have a long road ahead with therapy. Like Dr. Brown said, the coma, while healing the body, hides other symptoms from us. I'm concerned about the spinal injury, which could result in a more serious matter. Mr. Faireborn may not have use of his legs once he first awakes, but with intense therapy, we will have him walking, and even running again. His ankle bone was shattered, but with surgery, can be repaired."

Lady Jaye frowned, not liking what she was hearing, knowing that Flint would not like this news. "How does this affect his service in the military?"

Dr. Bone shook his head. "I'm afraid this is going to be a slow healing process. Normally - and I have worked with soldiers before – they're discharged so that they can heal. It often depends on the patient's stubbornness, really. A few have returned to active duty, but in a different capacity than they had before. It will be up to him and his body to dictate what will happen."

Martha whispered to Henry, "But the military's his life! What will he…."

Henry shushed her. "We don't know anything's for sure now, Martha, right doc?" he asked, looking over at the doctor, who nodded.

"Right now, we're seeing what we can, but we can't predict his range of movement until he awakes. We could force him out of his coma – there are ways – but I'd rather let his body work on the healing process and awake naturally. I'm sorry to say that there's not a specific number of days I can give you."

He turned to Lady Jaye. "You expressed an interest in having him transferred to another facility." He took a sheet of paper out of his pocket. "Here is a list, but I starred two of them that have excellent therapeutic facilities as well as meeting his surgical needs. There is also a top rated psychologist at this one," he said, pointing to the first one, who deals well with recovering soldiers."

"Thank you doctors, all of you," Lady Jaye said appreciatively. "I know it took a lot for you to come here, to juggle your schedules…"

Dr. Brown smiled. "As much as your family has done for us and our facilities, it was definitely a pleasure and nice to be able to do something in return. I wish you well for you and your young man." He turned to Martha and Henry, handing them a card. "This is my card if you find later on you have any questions. I will also send you a typed report, once it's ready, if you'll just email me at this address."

"Thank you," Henry answered for himself and a stunned Martha. It was a lot to take in. What exactly was her son's girlfriend that she could have top doctors at her beck and call?

Lady Jaye looked at the list and nodded to herself. The first choice was the obvious one. If Flint couldn't return to active duty….she knew he would need someone more than herself to get him through that.

She said as much to his parents, who nodded in agreement. All three stared silently at the bed where the only sound came from the whirring and beeping of the monitors. At least the respirator had been removed, Lady Jaye thought with relief. It had been one of the first things the specialists had done, stating that he could very well breathe on his own. It had been replaced by a small tube that attached under his nose to give him extra oxygen, if needed. At least it was one less apparatus in the way, she thought.

"So, this new place…" Martha began, turning to Lady Jaye. "Is it another government place?"

"No. It's one of the top rated hospitals in the country….and it's in Boston," she said quietly. "I'd like your permission to transfer him there. I think he'd receive more personal attention than what he can get here."

Henry patted his wife's arm, speaking for both of them. "You know more about this than we do, Allie. Martha and I were talking and…" his voice broke, and he took a moment and cleared his throat loudly. "Well, we know he's in good hands with you, and you're like family already to us….."

"We want to give you power of attorney," blurted out Martha. "Heck, the two of you are almost married, right?" She gestured around her. "As much as we'd like to stay here, we know that the farm can't run itself," she sighed. "But we also know you'd update us, like you've been doing, and we could be here lickity split if anything were to…..happen."

Lady Jaye was stunned. "Are you sure? I mean, I'm honored, but….well, you're his parents…"

"Honey, we know you have a lot more influence than we do here and it seems it'll carry over to Boston. I'm not sure how you did it, but we're grateful for everything you're doing. Hell," he said, giving that same lopsided smile his son had, "I think I'd rather wake up seeing a pretty girl than my old man and mother!"

"The hospital said they have a lawyer that can help us sign any papers over. We'd go ahead and just tell you to do it, but we have to do it legally, you know, since you two aren't married yet."

Lady Jaye managed to blush. She and Flint hadn't talked much beyond their days at GI Joe, and certainly not about marriage. Not that it hadn't entered her mind. She had a good relationship with his family and genuinely liked them. He knew about her family and had even met her mother….albeit by total coincidence, but he had survived.

"Thank you," she managed, at a loss for words that these two people would trust their son's life in her hands.


	4. Chapter 4

The transfer went smoothly. Lady Jaye had taken an extended leave of absence from GI Joe to care for Flint, and traveled with him to the hospital in Boston. She had purposely neglected to tell Flint's parents that her mother was on the board of this hospital and that one of its wings had been named for her grandfather, who had made quite a generous donation to the hospital when he passed on. She had never gotten to know him, but thought it had been nice of him to make sure his money went towards something as important as a cancer research center.

It had been several weeks since the accident, and over a week since they had transferred to Boston. Already her mother had been to see her and cluck over her daughter's state. In a rare show of understanding, she had arranged for her daughter to stay in the room with the patient, making sure food was delivered each day for her to consume – a condition being that she was to eat it and at least take one walk outside in the courtyard each day for fresh air.

Lady Jaye hated taking that walk, but did as she was told, knowing one of the nurses would rat on her if she didn't. They were good about sitting with him, though, when she was out, and she never stayed away long.

She had just returned from one of the walks and was staring moodily out the window, her hand resting on top of Flint's. Absentmindedly, she squeezed his hand and felt a return squeeze. Immediately, her eyes flew to the bed, but saw with great disappointment that his eyes were still closed. Had she imagined it?

She squeezed his hand again, and felt the return squeeze, the reaction a bit slower this time. She grew excited, having heard of this reaction in coma patients. Usually, it led to the patient waking up or at least being aware of his surroundings.

"Dash?" she asked, her voice hoarse from disuse. "Can you hear me, baby?"

She was disappointed that his eyes didn't fly open or even give another squeeze, although realistically she knew it was a one in a million chance that would happen.

Sighing, she leaned over and kissed his forehead. "I wish you would wake up, even if it is a healing process," she grumbled. "At least then, we could take the next step forward. I also miss you, you big dummy. God, I'd even take one of our infamous blow outs at this point! At least then, I'd know you were okay."

She glanced at one of the monitors next to the bed, hoping to see a spike in his brain waves as she talked to him. It would mean he could hear her, or maybe even try to communicate back. Nothing, dammit, she thought, glaring at the machine.

Sighing again, she wandered back over to the window, but the scene outside was just the same as it had been five minutes before.

Knowing the nurses wouldn't be checking on him for awhile, she sat on the edge of his bed, slowly nudging her body so that she lay next to him. Being careful with his IV in his other hand, placing it gently on the other side of the bed, she snuggled up to his still body, listening to his even breathing.

"This sucks, Dash," she murmured, her head resting on his shoulder, her feet careful not to touch his cast he wore since his ankle surgery. "I'm bored, lonely, and scared. I also have to deal with my mother every couple of days. You remember what that was like, right? It would be nice if you'd wake up and we could start this physical therapy and get back on track."

"I've been thinking," she continued, voicing it aloud, "that maybe we're not meant to go back to GI Joe. We could start anew somewhere else. What, I haven't figured out, but heck, we're two talented people. I'm sure we can find something to do." She yawned. "I've missed this," she admitted softly, trailing a hand down his chest, mindful of the wires, "and you know what? As long as no one minds, I'm just going to stay like this for a little while. Tell me if you don't want me to stay," she joked, wondering if the seclusion was driving her a bit wonky in the head.

She yawned again and decided she'd take a short nap, sure that once someone came into the room, they'd do that polite throat clearing thing, and she'd wake up. Probably embarrassed, but at this point, she didn't care.


	5. Chapter 5

"Allie, honey, wake up."

She groaned, feeling herself being given a little push.

"God, woman, I don't know how you do it, but you put my arm to sleep every time."

"Dash?" she asked sleepily, wondering if this was still part of her dream.

"Al, if I wasn't tied down here, I would've pushed you in the floor by now!"

Her eyes flew open and she realized who had been talking to her.

"Dash!" she squealed, giving him a great big kiss. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner?"

He winced at her squeal. His Allie wasn't a squealer usually, and for that, he was grateful.

"Babe, if you could just…"

"Oh! Sorry. Listen, I need to call the doctor now that you're awake…"

She leaned over and pressed the call button hanging on the other side of his bed. Unable to stop the grin from spreading across her face, she grabbed his good hand.

"How are you feeling? Oh my gosh, I am so happy you are awake! Do you know where you are? Do you remember what happened?"

Flint groaned, looking over at her. "When did my Alison get replaced by Courtney? I swear, I thought she was the only one who could talk 200 miles an hour. She must be rubbing off on you."

Lady Jaye bit her lip, laughing. "Sorry! I've been a little stir crazy here lately. You've been out for almost four weeks now."

He looked stunned. "Four weeks?" Looking around, he frowned. "Where exactly am I?"

"We're in Boston," she explained, leaning over to press the call button again. Where was that nurse?

"Oh my god! My parents! They must be…"

She waved a hand at him. "They've already seen you and actually wanted to give me power of attorney over you to make any major decisions. After the doctor checks you out, we'll call them. I'm sure they'll go nuts hearing your voice," she said, still smiling.

"Power of attorney? Boston? Wait, I think…." Flint looked confused. "Was I really that bad?"

At that moment the nurse entered, followed by the doctor, who gave Flint a thorough examination, commenting on his injuries and reporting to him the progress he had already made.

"Ankle surgery," Flint repeated, frowning. "My ankle was shattered? That usually means…."

"Physical therapy. Now, I'm going to ask you to do some things you might think are a bit, well, silly, but it helps us judge your range of motion," the doctor told him.

Lady Jaye was relieved that his spinal injury hadn't impaired any of his normal movements. Flint didn't seem as relieved.

When the doctor left, he looked at Lady Jaye, frowning.

"What's up?" she asked softly. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Four weeks in a coma," he repeated softly, "and a shattered ankle, as well as a dislocated knee." He gave her a hard look. "I'm not stupid. I know what this means."

"Baby, we thought you weren't going to be able to move your legs! I think this turned out much better than we had hoped!"

She knew why he was upset, and that he had put two and two together and had gotten four.

"Four weeks," he repeated. "Al, have you been with me this whole time?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Maybe I need to ask you the same thing."

"What do you mean ask me the same thing?" she asked, her relief slowly turning to irritation. "Why wouldn't I be here?"

"You have a job to do. Why are you wasting time here with me?"

"Wasting time?" she asked incredulously. "You think I'm wasting my time being here for you?"

"There's no need to lose your position, one you worked hard for."

"Listen, buddy," she began, her voice strained, the weeks of stress and tension creeping into her voice, "I chose to be here! Your parents…."

"Were smart," he finished, interrupting her. "They knew things would be fine and went back to the farm, didn't they?"

"Because they knew I was here taking care of you!"

"Yeah, speaking of which….how did you explain to Mom and Dad how I could afford all this? Or rather, how _**you**_ could afford all this?"

"Why are you bringing money into this?" she asked, her arms now at her waist, her hands fisted, a sure sign she was irritated. "Who the hell cares as long as you get the best treatment, right?"

"Yeah, about that," he said dryly, "why didn't you just leave me in a VA hospital to recover? It's not like I'm going to be able to return to active duty."

"You don't know that yet! Why don't you just let time and therapy decide that!"

"Alison," he said coldly, "no amount of money can change this situation, not even yours."

"Again, who the hell is talking about money?" she answered hotly, throwing up her hands. "And here I was wishing you'd wake up, even if it was just to have an argument. Stupid me!" she said, blinking back the tears. "I forgot this is what you're like when you're so….pigheaded!"

"Then why don' t you go take a walk or something and give me a moment's peace," he told her, his tone just as cold as before. "Give yourself a break from being the dutiful caregiver."

"Maybe I will!" she snapped back, storming out of the room. She found her way to the courtyard and was grateful to find it empty. She collapsed under one of the trees and began to sob.


	6. Chapter 6

"He's in with the psychologist," the nurse informed her as she approached the room. "You might want to wait a few moments." Such a shame, she thought, noticing the red-rimmed eyes. Here she had been day and night with that man, and he practically threw her out of the room! They had all heard, of course – who couldn't, with their voices raised like that? The nurse had discretely paged the psychologist after Ms. Hart had left, knowing Mr. Faireborn would need to talk to a professional. He just couldn't keep treating Ms. Hart this way!

Lady Jaye smiled at the nurse gratefully, and wandered over to the visitor's lounge. After she had cried it out, she had sat and thought about what it must be like from Flint's point of view. He had just found out his military career might be over for good and of course had lashed out at her. There she was, standing there healthy and, according to him, throwing away her career to take care of him. Granted, he should know she would never give up anything if it was important to her. She had chosen him because he was important to her, more important than she had ever thought. His parents talk of marriage had gotten her mind working, thinking about their possible future together.

He just had his future pulled out from under him, like the proverbial rug. Of course he had lashed out at her! Still, it didn't completely take away the hurt she was feeling from his rejection.

Deciding to use the time wisely, she called the base and announced the good news to Hawk. The conversation was brief, and for that she was relieved. She didn't want to do much more than make the announcement and then hang up. She was grateful Hawk seemed to be swamped that day. She was also grateful he didn't ask her when she'd be returning.

She got up and wandered down the hall, back towards his room. The nurse looked up from the station and smiled, but shook her head. The psychologist must still be in there, she sighed. Maybe she could go get them some decent coffee from the shop on the first floor. He might appreciate a good cup of coffee after all this. Hell, she could use something extra in her coffee, but there wasn't that kind of store on the first floor!

Returning 15 minutes later with two cups, the nurse gave her a sympathetic smile and a nod, so she knew it was okay to go in.

The door was shut, so she shifted the cups to one side and gave a soft knock before entering.

He lay there with his eyes closed, but she could tell he wasn't sleeping.

"Hey, I got us some coffee," she announced, trying to sound normal. "I figured it was hospital, so they wouldn't have the good stuff, but look what I found! They even had your favorite kind."

She set the cups down on the table next to his bed, but still he wouldn't open his eyes. What are we, five? she thought, exasperated.

"Dash, I know you're faking," she finally said after a few moments had gone by. "Your breathing's not even."

He opened his eyes and glared at her. "What did you want?"

He felt guilty, noticing she had tried to cover up with some sort of makeup, but he could tell she had been crying. He had caused that, he knew. Talking to the shrink they had sent it hadn't helped either. It had just made him angrier about his current situation.

"Babe," she began, sitting on the edge of his bed, careful not to bump his leg, "you know I want to be here, right? I'm not here for any other reason." She paused, and after he didn't speak, she reminded him softly, "I love you."

His frown deepened. "You know I love you, too, which is why I feel like you shouldn't be here. It's not doing you any good waiting around on me. Frankly, Al, you look like hell," he lied. Yeah, she looked a little rough, but to him, she always looked beautiful. "The stress or strain of the situation is getting to you. Maybe you need to take a break. I already talked to my parents while you were gone. They said I could come home and they'd take care of me there. I can get therapy in Kansas City, same as I can get here."

She looked away, not wanting him to see the hurt in her eyes. She knew he was upset about his situation and figured things with the psychologist had not gone well. Suddenly, she stiffened and turned to him, her face carefully blank.

"Really? You called your mom and talked to her? Hmm. That's interesting. I didn't realize tin cans and string stretched all the way from Boston to Kansas _**since you didn't have a phone to use!**_"

He looked sheepish as she caught him in the lie.

"We do, however, need to call your parents and let them know you're awake. Do you want me to talk to them or do you want to do all the talking? You know, for real this time," she said, hearing the sarcasm that came into her voice. Then again, maybe it was what he needed…much more than sympathy.

"I'll talk to them," he muttered and she handed him her cell phone. She walked over to the window to give him some privacy. Of course, she could hear his mother's joyful cry as she recognized her son's voice. She also heard him tell his mother not to bother flying to Boston, that he'd see her soon and not to worry about him.

He cleared his throat. "She wants to talk to you," he said, holding the phone out for her.

She turned and walked over, taking the phone from him.

"Yes?"

"Oh, Allie, you have made me so happy! You gave us back our boy!" She could hear the tears in Martha's voice. "We knew you were so right for him! When he's through with his therapy, please come out here with him so we can throw you both a big party!" There was a sly tone in her voice when she asked, "Maybe we could celebrate more than just a recovery then?"

Lady Jaye felt herself blush, and turned from Flint's glare. "Um, I don't know about that one. We're just taking things one day at a time here," she managed.

They talked for a few more minutes until Lady Jaye was able to pull away. Closing her phone, she waited before turning around, knowing he had heard the conversation from both ends.


	7. Chapter 7

"What have you been telling my mother?" he ground out, his eyes accusing.

"Nothing! I swear!"

His eyes narrowed. "Did you give her the impression that we were getting engaged?"

She bit back a retort. "No," she said instead, "that would just be a thought in your mother's head, apparently. I did nothing to encourage it." She looked him straight in the eye as she said it, and he ended up being the first one to turn away.

She blinked back the tears. So he hadn't been planning a future for them together then? Granted, they both had thought they'd be staying in GI Joe until its eventual disbandment, but still…had he not given any thought beyond that? 

He sighed, feeling like a heel. He just didn't want her saddled with him when she had such a promising career ahead of her. Even if GI Joe fell apart, he knew several agencies would jump at the chance to have her skills at their disposal!

"You know," she said, deciding to give voice to it instead of continuing to skirt around the issue, "you are going to walk again. The doctor thinks that, with therapy, you'll be able to do much more as well."

"I know that," he growled, "like I know it's also going to be a long process. You going to stay here for the next several months while I go through this?"

"I had planned on it," she said softly, more to herself than him, but he heard her anyway.

"I don't want you to," he told her firmly. He meant it. He didn't want her to waste her time with him. She needed to go back to GI Joe. They needed her there.

"Gee, that's too bad," she replied dryly, "since you're stuck with me."

"Look," she said in a more normal tone, biting her lip for a moment while she put her thoughts together, "I know you're upset about everything and lashing out at me is just something that, well, it's kind of like a classic thing. Anyway," she continued before he could speak, "I'm here and you're going to have to deal with it. I'd rather not go through this every day, so the sooner you can accept this and let us go back to normal, the better."

He watched as she twisted her hands, another nervous gesture she had in addition to biting her lip. He knew her all too well…just as well as she knew him, he guessed.

"I don't want you throwing your life away on me," he told her, deciding to be brutally honest. "The Joes need you, they need your skill. I'd feel bad if you wasted that talent sitting here with me every day."

"Well, now, that's my choice now, isn't it? Plus," she lied, "I already tendered my resignation, so it doesn't matter now, does it? I think they replaced me with someone who's much better anyway. I think she was a former Swedish swimsuit model, so I'm sure the guys are much happier with her anyway!"

He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing at her ridiculous statement.

She was glad to see he could still laugh. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and just feel him next to her, but she wasn't so sure he'd welcome that right now.

Her longing must have shown in her eyes, because after looking at her for a moment, he held out a hand. "Come here," he commanded softly.

She obeyed, and he pulled her to him. Shifting over, he made room for her on the bed. She gratefully climbed in and lay next to him, her head once again on his shoulder.

"This was a nice way to wake up," he confessed softly, stroking her hair.

He sighed loudly. "I'm sorry," he said after a few moments.

"I know," she replied tiredly. "Just stop trying to push me away, okay?"

"I'll try," he told her, noticing her breathing was evening out. He was surprised that after four weeks of apparent rest, he too, felt tired. Deciding that he could reason with her better after both of them had some rest, he pulled her closer and let himself drift off, knowing that tomorrow, he'd have to push her away again.


	8. Chapter 8

She reluctantly pulled herself out of his embrace, immediately feeling a chill where she had laid next to him.

As if on cue, her mother met her at the door.

"You're here awfully early," Lady Jaye told her, watching her mother eye her jeans and wrinkled shirt with barely suppressed disdain.

"Good thing," she sniffed, reaching out and finger combing her daughter's unruly hair. "I can help you clean up a bit." She glanced over to where Flint was still sleeping. "Is he doing any better?"

"Yes, thank you," she answered her mother politely. "I'm sure you've heard the latest."

"That he awoke? Yes. I've also heard he's had some trouble…adjusting."

She briefly wondered at her mother's source, but figured it wasn't worth the time. She had chosen this hospital for its reputation, as well as the influence her mother had over the place. A Hart had served on the board since its founding. If Flint were to get the best treatment, it would be here.

"Well, can you blame him?" Lady Jaye said, stepping out of the room and shutting the door quietly behind her. "He just found out the extent of his injuries and his future in the military is questionable right now."

"I can understand his frustration, but not why he'd lash out at you, especially after all you've done for him! Are you so sure you should be taking care of this man? Don't think I don't know what you're doing, young lady!" her mother sniffed. "Does he even realize you've paid what the government won't?"

She winced at her mother's sharp tone. "I know what I'm doing," she replied in a quietly controlled voice. "He's not angry with me, just the situation. He also feels I'm giving up too much to take care of him," she explained, hoping her mother would understand. "But I'm not," she finished quietly.

Her mother regarded her silently. "Well," she finally said, in a rare show of compassion, "if you feel that way about him, then I guess he's worth it."

She was surprised by her mother's statement. In the past, she had done nothing but criticize her choice of…well, anything. She had tried to set her up with promising politicians, sons of wealthy families, or anyone else she saw fit to be worthy of her heir's time. To accept the fact that she was dating someone who her mother would see as a "no one"….well, it was a big step for her!

"I assume you are going to continue his therapy here?" her mother asked. She produced a key at her daughter's nod. "Then you'll need a place to stay. I'm returning to the Vineyard, so I want you to have use of the penthouse while I'm gone."

"Thank you," Lady Jaye replied, stunned by her mother's easy acceptance of not only her choice of companionship, but also of the living arrangements.

Her mother shrugged. "If you're this dedicated to your young man, well, there's not much I can do about it, can I? I just don't want to hear about how he is mistreating you," she finished in a cold tone. "You don't deserve to deal with that."

Lady Jaye sighed. "It was a shock and he tried to push me away – a textbook example, I assure you. It's going to take him a while to adjust, but I'm not leaving him." She smiled at her mother, surprised it came so easily. "Thank you for letting us stay at your place."

"Now, dear, I know you like your independence, but I figured with all you've been doing lately, you hadn't thought of a place to stay. I just recently had it redecorated, so you'll have to let me know what you think." She paused, letting her words sink in. At least her daughter was back in polite society. She'd have to make some calls to make sure the "right people" knew she was around.

"I talked with the doctor and your young man will be released within the next few days, now that he's awake, if not sooner." She smiled proudly at her daughter. "You don't think I know you, but I do. I figured you'd stay here for his recovery because this place is the best there is. You're a Hart. We don't skimp on these things, especially with our loved ones."

"Dash and I thank you - for everything. I know it was through your influence that the team of doctors got there so quickly, that we were able to get to Boston so quickly…."

Her mother waved her hand. "Think nothing of it, Alison. It's what we do for family….and you are, after all, my daughter." She leaned forward and gave her daughter a stiff hug. "Take care of your Dash and keep me posted."

"Yes, ma'am," Lady Jaye responded, surprised by the words as well as the hug. Her mother was definitely not the touchy-feely sort.

"Well, my dear, I'm off. In return for the penthouse, make sure you and your Dash come by to visit me once he is more himself. I'd like to get to know him better since it seems he's going to become a permanent fixture in your life."

Lady Jaye blushed. What was it about their parents that they automatically assumed she and Flint were going to get married? Is that why her mother was so accepting about them staying together? Or did she have another plan in mind?

She repeated again, "Yes, ma'am," and opened the door to the room, closing it gently behind her. She glanced over at the bed and saw that he was still sleeping. A nurse hustled in behind her and began to check his vitals.

She wandered over to the window, fingering the key in her pocket, wondering what Flint's reaction would be. _He'll fight me tooth and nail_, she thought with a smile. Already, he was probably forming a plan to get rid of her. _He should know me better than that_.

While she'd like to think her mother was being overly generous, she had to wonder at the undertones. What was it she wanted in return? Surely a visit for tea in Martha's Vineyard wasn't all she required. She sighed, hating that she was so suspicious about her own mother's means.

She turned and watched the nurse finishing up, noticing that Flint's eyes were on her, not the woman bustling around him and jotting notes on his chart. How would he react to this latest news? Was he already forming his plan to get rid of her? _Bring it on_, she thought with a smirk – he and her mother.


	9. Chapter 9

He wondered what she was thinking, smirking over there by the window. He had woken up as soon as she had left the room. Really, as soon as she had gotten up, but then had drifted back to sleep once she closed the door. Damn drugs, he thought with a scowl. He wished his head were clearer, but knew without the pain medicine they were giving him he'd be worse off than he was.

The nurse gave him a quick, distracted smile and murmured something about the doctor being on his way before she left the room. Flint gave her a nod of acknowledgement, his eyes finally turning away from Allie.

"So, sleepyhead, how are you feeling today?" Lady Jaye asked in a cheery voice as she pulled up a chair next to his bed.

He gave her a look, and she chuckled. "Grumpy it is, then." Her look turned more serious. "My mother stopped by."

His eyebrows raised. "Your mother?"

"Well, you know, she's kind of on the board of directors here. Anyway," she hurried on, not wanting him to dwell on that, "she's letting us stay at her place during your rehab stint."

He scowled. "I told you. I'm heading back to KC for rehab. I can perfectly well stay with my…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she interrupted. "Your parents - who will have to stop what they're doing and ferry you back and forth each day, not to mention wait on you hand and foot. Can't see how that's going to help the farm," she said speculatively.

He grumbled something and she hid her smile. "What's that? I didn't catch what you said."

"Dammit, Allie, I can't let you do this!"

"You really don't have a choice now, do you? One," she began, ticking the reasons off on her fingers, "we're already here. Two, I have a perfectly nice place for us to stay that is nearby and available, and _not_ a hotel. That means we can even entertain visitors if we want to."

At his look, she smiled innocently. "You didn't think your buddies had forgotten about you? They're itching to come see you! Anyway, three…hmmm…yeah, three, maybe you haven't considered the fact that I _want_ to do this for you…for us," she finished, her voice growing softer.

He clasped her hands between his own. "Alison, I need you to listen to me. Really listen to me," he began, his tone serious. "I know you want to do this, that you feel this need to take care of me. Honey, I love you. You know that, and I'm grateful for everything you've done so far. But I love you too much to tie you down right now. You have your future and I….I just need to figure mine out. On my own."

She regarded him silently, her face a mask.

After a few moments, she spoke. "Dashiell Faireborn, that's about the most selfish thing I've ever heard! When did I ever ask you to make decisions for me? Maybe, just maybe," she paused, hearing the emotion in her voice, trying to pull herself together, "it isn't _my_ future or _your_ future…maybe it's _**our**_ future!"

He looked pained, holding her hands tighter. "I can't promise you that right now! That's not fair of me to hold you back when I don't even know…"

She narrowed her eyes, pulling away from him. "Look, you're kind of in a position where you don't have many choices. In fact, you're kind of at _my_ mercy now, aren't you?" At his shocked look, she chuckled. "Hadn't considered _that_ one, had you? Push me away all you like, but once the doctor clears you to leave, we're going to my mother's place, you will be coming here for rehab each day, and we'll both see you through the healing process. _Together_," she emphasized.

She saw a look flicker in his eyes before he quickly blinked it away. He knew she was right, that he was completely at her mercy. Had he actually been turned on for a moment by it before he pushed the thought away? There may be hope yet, she thought, a satisfied smile crossing her face.

"I won't even ask you what that's about," he said wearily, eyeing the smile. He sounded defeated.

"Get used to it," she told him, dropping a quick kiss on his lips. "I need to make some arrangements and see about when they're going to start your therapy. The doctor said that after the first few sessions, you'd be released, if you were showing progress. I know you want to get out of here," she gave him a smile. "Just be grateful my mother had to head back home. You could have been at _her_ mercy!"

He watched her strut out of the room, swinging her hips provocatively. God, he loved her, he thought, a surge of emotion filling his chest. She was right. Hell, she usually was, he sighed. While he felt guilty that she was devoting herself to his care, secretly he was pleased that she wouldn't back down, and that she'd be around.

He hadn't thought much about their future together. He hadn't really even thought past his future with GI Joe. Sure, the rumors surfaced now and then about losing funding and possibly disbanding the elite group, but that's all they had been – rumors. He doubted terrorism, whether it was Cobra or another organization, would disappear altogether from the world, so there would always be a need for a team like GI Joe.

He just hadn't thought he wouldn't be part of that future….or at least, not until he had become too old to be out in the field. Even then, he figured he'd be involved in some way like as commander. A quick image flashed in his mind of a much older, gray-haired Allie going undercover, and he chuckled. There probably wasn't too much demand for granny covert agents.

No, he hadn't figured on an immediate future without GI Joe. Or without Allie. She had become more important to him, he realized, than his own happiness. He was willing to lose her so that _she_ could be happy. No, a life without her….he just couldn't imagine it.

So, she was right. He'd stay at her mother's place….he shuddered, wondering what kind of mausoleum that would be, based on Allie's description of her mother (thank god there had only been that one run in with her in his life – that had been enough)….and go to rehab each day until he was better able to assess his options. There would be plenty of time to talk reason to Allie then, with the two of them together in private.

There was a knock on the door and an attractive blonde woman stood there, smiling at him.

"You must be Dashiell," she said, coming over to the bed and holding out her hand. "I'm Dr. Amy Scot. I'll be supervising your rehabilitation."

He shook her hand, surprised at the firm grip. She looked like she should be sipping tea on a yacht, not working in a hospital. She certainly was much hotter than any of the other doctors he'd encountered so far!

He couldn't help but smile back at her. "You can call me Dash," he told her, grateful that Allie wasn't currently in the room. He wasn't quite so sure what her reaction would be to the pretty Dr. Scot.

"Well, then, Dash," she said, opening the door wider to let the orderly in with a wheelchair, "now that we've been introduced, let's get to know each other better! I'm sure my place isn't exactly your normal idea of a doctor's office, but I guarantee we'll find some toys for you to play with!" she beamed.

A little dazzled by her bright smile, he let himself be helped into the wheelchair, wincing only a little at the stiffness he felt in his muscles for being in the bed so long.

She noticed and gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder. "Don't you worry about those kinks, handsome! We have a great massage table that'll work those knots right out! My crew and I will make sure you leave our office feeling wonderful!" she cooed.


	10. Chapter 10

Lady Jaye returned to an empty room, but had already been told by the floor nurse that Flint had been taken by Dr. Scot for rehab. She wondered at the funny look the nurse had given her. It had been a few days since she'd last been able to look at herself critically in a mirror. Doing so now, she winced. Did she really look that bad? Normally she wasn't a vain person, but this was pretty rough!

Making a quick decision, she found a piece of paper and jotted Flint a note, leaving it on his pillow. She'd head to her mother's apartment and clean herself up as well as check the place out. Grabbing the small bag she had packed when they had traveled to Boston, she decided a quick shopping trip was also in order. She'd have to talk to Dr. Scot about how long she estimated Flint's rehab would take. She had packed so quickly, she really had only thrown jeans and t-shirts into her duffel – nothing too fancy. Her mind had been more on Flint and his condition. She knew her things were still back at GI Joe, as well as his. She'd have to make some arrangements, she thought, smiling at the thought of a shopping trip.

Never one to waste a moment, she made a few phone calls during the cab ride to her mother's place. Her spree would have to wait. Right now, she'd have a personal shopper at one of her favorite places deliver some things for her to consider.

"Lady Alison, as I live and breathe!" Tom, the doorman, said dramatically as she exited the cab in front of the stately building.

She gave him a friendly smile and a hug. "It's good to see you, too, Tom!"

"Your mother left word you'd be living here for awhile, only…." he glanced curiously at the cab as it pulled away. "You have a young man staying with you as well?"

"He's still in the hospital," she explained. "I needed to clean up and do a few things before bringing him back here."

"Well, you just let me know if you need ol' Tom to do anything for you, m'lady! You always were the most precocious child! It'll be nice to have you running around here again! Bring some life here to this place," he chuckled.

She smiled. "I'm not quite sure how precocious I am nowadays, but if you want," she winked, "I'll give you a run for your money!"

Opening the door, he shook his head. "You never change, m'lady!"

She was grateful she didn't run into any other residents in the lobby. Of course, they were of the genteel wealthy set and would be overseeing businesses or charities at this hour of the day, she speculated.

She pushed in the code for her mother's floor and felt the elevator rise. Stepping out into the small, but neat hallway, she noticed nothing had changed so far. The same antique side table with what looked to be the same plant from her childhood was still sitting there by the door. Apparently, the decorator hadn't thought it worthy of changing the small hallway. Taking out the key, she slid it into the lock.

The doors opened and Lady Jaye gasped in surprise. Gone was the heavily antiqued atmosphere she remembered from her youth. A look but don't touch type of place, she had hated staying here the few times she did with her mother. Her father's place had been much more fun.

The place now looked more modern and…comfortable! Sure, there were still the usual knick knacks around, but there were also a lot more pictures. She picked up one and was surprised to see a photo of her young self with her mother – one of the rare times when they had been enjoying each other's company. It had been her mother's club's formal tea and the ladies had performed a parody that had everyone laughing hysterically. The picture had been taken not long after, with a smiling 12 year old Alison posed next to a more serene Adele, her mother.

She replaced the picture and peeked into the bedrooms, finding a guest bedroom that would suit her needs. She glanced enviously at the large tub in the adjoining bathroom, opting instead for a quick shower.

Feeling more like herself after the shower, she heard the buzz of the intercom and went to go answer it.

"Lady Alison, there's several packages for you down here. Would you like me to bring them up?" came Tom's voice through the intercom.

"I'd appreciate it. Thanks, Tom!" she said with a smile.

She laughed as Tom teased her about leaving half the store behind as he brought in several shopping bags and boxes of clothes and shoes.

Going through them with a critical eye, she felt pleased with the selection the personal shopper had chosen. She put a few things aside to return, but decided to keep most of it. She'd send for Flint's clothes from the base as well as her own eventually, but for now, these would do nicely.

Smiling, she chose a dress to wear, figuring Flint had seen her in enough fatigues and jeans for now. Maybe it was time to up the ante. He'd be released in the next couple days, after a few initial sessions of therapy and rehabilitation. It would be fun playing house for awhile. She couldn't help it – both sets of parents had put thoughts in her head of their possible future together. Maybe this could be a kind of trial basis? Granted, it wouldn't be a normal experience, she reminded herself, thinking of his periodic dark moods since his injury.

After hanging up their new clothes in the guest closet, she glanced at her watch. It was time she was getting back.


	11. Chapter 11

It had been a grueling session. Dr. Scot had delivered on the promised massage, and without it, things could have been worse. His body had been like someone else's. Had he really broken into a sweat just by walking along those bars? Every muscle in his arms had strained as he tried not to put any weight on his ankle. Of course, the good doctor had noticed and fussed at him.

Afterwards, her assistant had rubbed him down, working through the knots that he had once called muscles. He sighed aloud, discouraged that his once fit body had deteriorated so quickly. Granted, he had spent four weeks in bed, but really? He had always been proud of his physique. Now, it just seemed that, along with his career, it was slowly fading away.

Dr. Scot's cheerfulness that he had at first found attractive, had become annoying at the end.

"You did a great job today, Dash! I'm so proud of your progress already! I can tell that you're going to be one of my model patients, eh?" she had chirped in an annoyingly enthusiastic voice.

"I'll be back tomorrow! Be looking for me, okay?" she said with a wave of her hand as they left him, alone, in his room.

He heard a crinkle as he leaned his head heavily on his pillow. Scowling, he felt underneath until he found the piece of paper.

He sighed. Not that he expected her to wait on him hand and foot, but she could at least be here when he needed her. Then again, would she want to know how far down he had come? She wasn't shallow enough to head for the hills, but he didn't want her to feel tied down to him. She was an active, athletic person. He couldn't see her being tied down to someone who didn't share the same interests.

He had just drifted off to sleep when he heard someone enter the room. Figuring it was just the nurse, he continued to keep his eyes shut. He really didn't feeling like talking to anyone right now.

He heard a throat being cleared and reluctantly opened his eyes.

God, she looked stunning! Despite his foul mood, he felt the familiar sharp, physical tug towards her. How could he ever consider giving her up? a voice whispered to him. She was absolutely amazing, both inside and out. He pushed down the emotions, knowing that at some point, he would have to let her go.

"I see you cleaned up," he merely said in a weary voice, not giving voice to his thoughts. It wasn't often he got to see her in anything but fatigues or jeans.

She twirled, smiling, feeling pleased at the look in his eyes, ignoring his tone of voice. "You like it? I didn't have time to go shop, but called in a few favors for both of us. Figured we'd need something more than what we brought with us," she said with a wink.

"How did rehab go?" she asked, then frowned as she saw the light in his eyes fade.

"Fine," he mumbled, and he seemed to close in on himself.

She moved over to his bed, and began to stroke his head. "Tough?"

He shrugged. "It's going to be for awhile," he said, looking away from her towards the wall. "Listen, I'm kind of tired."

"Dash," she said softly, gently moving a strand of hair that fell over his forehead.

He couldn't take her sympathy. He'd rather have her yell at him for something, not have her feel sorry for him. He knew what lay in his future as well as she did.

"Maybe you should leave," he said in a strained voice.

She closed her eyes, holding back the tears.

"If that's what you want," she merely answered, glad he wasn't looking at her.

He didn't answer. Sighing, she stood up and quietly left the room.

He lay there, feeling like the biggest heel in the world. It was better this way, he told himself, ignoring the pain he had heard in her voice.

Lady Jaye went to search for Dr. Scot, to see what had gone so wrong.

"It was his first day. I'm not sure what he was expecting, Allie, but he did really well for his first time!"

"You've got to understand, Amy, to him, not being able to get up and go….maybe I need to insist he still sees the counselor. I thought things had gotten better, but I guess not," she admitted sadly. "I guess I also thought I could help him, but I'm wrong there too," she finished softly.

"Allie," Amy said, putting her hand on her shoulder, "don't blame yourself. No offense, but you're not qualified to psychoanalyze the situation. You're right. Dashiell was a strong military man who had the floor pulled out from under him. I understand that. However, one session is not going to heal him! I guess I should have explained more to him what the process will entail. First, we need to build him back up after his long bed rest, and then we'll work on the rest. It's really going to depend on his attitude. If he's depressed and refuses to work with us," she shrugged, "then the process will take longer and may not be successful."

She sighed. "I know he's your guy, Al, and I have to say – it's nice to see you finding someone you can be this serious about. I wasn't sure if you'd ever….well, anyway, it's nice to see you this involved. However, you can't become the victim here as well. I know you. Being the caregiver does that to people, you know?"

"So, what you're saying is…."

Amy stood up, looking down at her friend. "I'm saying that maybe, yes, you need to set up time with the psychologist. He's not the first soldier we've served, so this is not an unusual occurrence. Maybe getting him out of the hospital into a new scene might help." She paused. "Don't neglect yourself as well."

Lady Jaye nodded. "So you think reminders of GI Joe won't help? His friends have been wanting to visit…"

Amy shrugged. "That will be more up to him. Do you think they'll just focus on times past, or do they have more in common than just combat?"

She had to think for a moment. "No, I think we all talked about everything other than our skirmishes with Cobra. I can see him arguing it at first, but maybe I can get him to come around," she said thoughtfully, a plan forming in her mind.

"Thanks for talking to me, Amy, about it."

"Anytime, Allie. By the way….did you tell him about us?"

"Hmm, no. It hadn't come up, so…" she shrugged.

"You might want to keep it to yourself, until you feel that he can handle things a little better. I'd hate for his reaction to our friendship set him back a few notches."


	12. Chapter 12

"Okay, here we go," she said cheerfully, watching the doctor sign the release papers a week later. "Ready to blow this joint?"

She received only a scowl from Flint. His work with Dr. Scot had been improving the past few days…so much so that he was being released from the hospital. However, Allie hadn't seen much improvement when it came to his sessions with the counselor. He was often grumpy or distant with her. It was her hope that once he was out of the confines of the hospital and into a more "normal" setting, things would get better.

She tried not to sigh. It was hard keeping up the one-sided optimism. Duke had called the other day, and he had refused to talk to even him. She still had a few tricks up her sleeve, though.

Dr. Scot popped her head in the room. She gave Allie a questioning look, who just shook her head.

"Good news!" she told Flint, who was currently facing the wall. She continued to talk, even though he didn't acknowledge her. "You've made so much progress lately, we're sending you home with crutches! I want you to stay primarily in the wheelchair for now, but when you're traveling around your apartment or other short distances, I'd like you to go ahead and try them….just to get the feel of them. Eventually, we'll be narrowing you down to one, then to a cane, just for when you need it with a walking cast, and then there won't be a need for anything!"

He rolled over and faced her and Lady Jaye was surprised to see the anger in his eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but Dr. Scot put a restraining hand on her arm.

"Did you want to say something?" she asked Flint using a patient tone.

"Does any of this really matter? Is me being on crutches going to make that much of a difference?" he spat out angrily. "Is it going to give me my career back?"

"It all depends on your progress," Dr. Scot told him, still using the same cheerful tone. She had dealt with all types of patient reactions before, and this was no different. "I've seen soldiers go back to join their units after worse injuries than yours. I've also seen ones give up or stay angry, and impede their progress by their attitude," she finished softly, hoping she had made her point.

The angry light faded from his eyes only to be replaced by an emptiness. It made Allie want to cry. "It doesn't matter," he mumbled, turning his attention back to the wall.

Dr. Scot gave her a look. Digging into her jacket pocket, she dug out a card and discretely passed it to her. "Therapist, one of the best for his condition," she mouthed.

She glanced at the card and saw the office was not in the hospital, but in a building not far from where they were staying. She nodded. Of course, the biggest obstacle would be getting him there.

"Well, here's your wheels outta here," Dr. Scot smiled at Allie as an orderly came into the room with a chair. "Good luck and I'll see you soon." She gave her hand a quick squeeze and mouthed, "Call me!"

Flint had been fully dressed for most of the morning, waiting for his time to leave. It would be nice to get out of the hospital, he had thought before, but now he wasn't so sure. Would the outside world be just a cruel reminder of what he could no longer do?

At times, he was disgusted with himself over this feeling of self-pity. I mean, after all, there were soldiers who had lost limbs, or worse…..he just had to recover from something more minor. Yeah, but we're talking about _your_ life, _your_ career, a voice would tell him, and he would get angry that this was happening to _him_. The anger would intensify when he thought of Allie, wasting away her time and talents with him.

He knew she was trying to be positive for him, but he could already see the fatigue and wear the longer she stayed with him.

He heard the soft whir of the rubber wheels as the orderly entered with the wheelchair. Sighing, he turned around and caught a glimpse of Allie's worried faced before she quickly masked it. He knew he was the cause of her worry and the occasional looks of sadness that would appear in her eyes when she thought he wasn't looking. He just couldn't stop the dark moods from coming.

Saying nothing, he let the orderly help him into the chair and wheel him out to the waiting car, holding the crutches across his lap. He hated this feeling of helplessness and embarrassment. He glanced down in disgust at the cast on his leg.

Allie climbed into the backseat with him. She had already told him that a driver had been provided to take them to the apartment. He hadn't asked how or why. For all he knew, it was Allie's chauffer.

They rode in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. She had taken her cue from him and had not tried to start any conversations. Instead, she had placed her hand on top of his, and he had let it rest there. In its own small way, the simple touch was comforting.

The car stopped, and she turned to him, a guarded look on her face. She had no idea how he was going to react to her suggestion. Hell, she had no idea how he would react to almost anything anymore.

"It's through the lobby, up the elevator, and down a small hallway. Do you want to try it with the crutches?"

He could tell what she wanted him to use, and sighed. "No, I'd better use the chair," he answered glumly. He saw the brief look of relief cross her face before it was gone. Did she really enjoy him being so helpless? he scowled.

"So this is your young man, then?" asked Tom, getting the door for them. She nodded and made the introductions. Flint, for his part, at least managed to look pleasant. He could tell there was a genuine affection between Allie and Tom.

She inwardly groaned as they made their way across the lobby. The last person she wanted to see was approaching them, a big smile on his face. Tom had whispered to her that he was in residence before they entered the building.

"Lady Alison! I had heard you were staying with your mother!" the handsome blonde-haired man smiled, coming towards her with open arms.

Flint sensed her body stiffen, but she allowed the man to embrace her. He felt the familiar stab of jealousy until he realized she was not hugging him back. He eyed the crutches, wondering how he could "accidentally" swing them and take the guy out.

She took a step back and gave a polite smile. "Senator Adams, I had no idea you were in residence."

"A brief stay before I have to get back to Washington. Obviously I chose well if you'll be here to keep me company."

"Well then," she said, "I guess introductions are in order." She placed a hand on Flint's shoulder, giving him an affectionate smile. "This is Warrant Officer Dashiell Faireborn. He'll be staying with me as well. Dash, this is Senator Dirk Adams."

Senator Adams' smile faltered. "Oh, then, is he a relative, m'lady?"

Flint saw the twinkle in her eye before she answered. "Oh no, this is my boyfriend." She was enjoying the reaction she was getting from the pompous asshole, he noticed. "By the way, Senator," she added, her tone pleasant, "how goes the work on the GI Bill? You know my _entire family_," she emphasized, "is _very_ interested in the outcome of that one."

Senator Adams frowned. "Oh yes, your mother was just saying the same to me the other day. You are still volunteering your time, then?"

Ignoring the slight to her profession, she continued. "Well, we are counting on your support of the bill, to make sure it passes." She paused. "Isn't your seat up for reelection next year?"

Flint was amused by the whole situation. At first, he had felt threatened by the handsome man's attention towards Allie, but he saw she had it well in hand. He had to admit, he always enjoyed the show when she pulled out her "lady of the manor" attitude. He had seen more than one powerful figure crumble before her. It was why Hawk would take her along with him to so many of his meetings in Washington.

At his silence, Lady Jaye gave another one of her polite smiles. "It was nice seeing you again, Dirk, but I need to get Dash upstairs. After all, he is one of the soldiers you're supporting the bill for," she reminded him. With that, she wheeled Flint past him and into the waiting elevator.

Once the doors closed, she leaned against the wall, letting out a huge sigh.

"Pompous jerk!" she muttered to no one in particular.

Flint chuckled, the first time in days. She was pleased to hear the sound.

"Pulled out the Hart card on him, huh, _m'lady_?" he mocked. He was one of the few in GI Joe that even knew she had a real title, outside her code name.

"Can you believe my mother wanted me to marry him? She finally realized what a prick he is and stopped trying to set me up with him! Let's hope he'll hightail it back to Washington after this!" She gave an evil grin. "He'll work hard on passing that GI Bill, because he doesn't want to lose my family's support!"

Impulsively, she leaned down and kissed Flint. "That's for not being a pompous jerk….well, most of the time," she teased, thinking of their earlier days together. "And for treating me like a human being, and not just campaign funds!"


	13. Chapter 13

She dumped their bags on the floor and shut the door, giving a sigh of relief. Thrusting the crutches in Flint's hand, she announced she was going to give him a tour of the place.

Giving her a strange look, he locked the wheelchair into place and slowly stood, using the crutches while she stood watching. Normally, she was always hovering, ready to help. Now that they were on their own, it seemed she wanted him to exert his own independence. He shook his head. He'd never understand women.

Seeing him on his feet, she smiled. Waving her arm around, she announced, "Obviously, this is the living area. The kitchen is over there and let me show you to the bedrooms."

She walked down the hallway and he followed slowly, getting used to the feel of the crutches and trying to set a rhythm. She pointed to one room. "That one is being used by my mother. I'd prefer to leave it alone." She turned to the room across the hall. "This, however, seems to fit our needs. There are several other rooms, one being an office and the other a bedroom. The last I think is meant for storage."

She entered the room she had indicated, throwing open the door and smiling back at him. "I figured this one would work out well. It has its own bathroom and a very nice shower." She continued on into the room, still talking. "I already put some of our things away in here."

He stopped at the threshold of the room and looked around. The whole place wasn't quite what he expected. Knowing her mother, he figured it would be filled with antiques and collectibles. Instead, it had surprised him by its openness and comfort. Well, Allie did say she had redecorated, he thought to himself. Maybe she had anticipated her daughter using the place and had given it a more modern look.

Allie flopped on the bed and looked expectantly at him, patting the place beside her. "Come on. You shouldn't be on your feet too long. You should feel how comfortable this bed is," she said in a deceptively innocent tone.

He hobbled over and she placed his crutches against the wall. "See?" she said, wide-eyed, and he knew she was up to something.

He found himself on his back with her straddling over him. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "this is really the first time we've been alone together without any interruptions. Did you realize that?"

"Hmm," was his only answer and her smile grew wicked.

"Let's see. No roommates, no nurses, no sneaking around….wonder what we could do?"

"Something tells me you have an idea," he answered, his hands moving up to capture her hips.

She leaned close. "Oh trust me, I'm full of ideas!" she answered with a chuckle.

Much later, he watched her sleep, her head resting against his arm. He probably should be resting as well, but he found he'd rather just watch her for now. His free hand lightly stroked her hair and she sighed happily in her sleep.

She was right. It had been rare for them to have any uninterrupted time. Even on their vacations, something always happened to interfere. Granted, this wasn't what he had envisioned. Glaring down at his cast, he repositioned his leg on the pillow she had thrust under it before drifting off.

She looked so peaceful, her face free of the worry lines she had been wearing the past couple of weeks. He knew he had created them. While he had told her numerous times he could take care of himself, secretly he was glad she had insisted on staying. He really didn't know what he'd do without her. He just wished this damn guilt would go away.

She slowly opened her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile. "What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"Nothing, baby, go back to sleep," he told her, leaning over and kissing her forehead. Her eyes slowly closed again and she snuggled closer. His arm tightened around her protectively.

How could he ever repay her for what she had done for him? She had played a lot of roles this past month or so – friend, caregiver, nurse, cheerleader, lover….he was sure that wouldn't cover it all.

He knew she wanted him to get in touch with Duke and Hawk. She hadn't mentioned it again since the last episode, where he had refused to talk to either on the phone. He had been in one of his dark moods and besides, what would he say to them? Hey, my ankle's healing, but I'll probably never be able to do what I did before? His life had been in field work – the plans, the strategy, the execution…..what would he do now?

"You are too thinking," muttered Lady Jaye sleepily. "Your body just stiffened. I haven't recharged yet so either stop thinking or go to sleep," she ordered, opening one eye and staring balefully at him. "I suggest the sleep."

He leaned over and brushed his lips softly against hers. "Yes ma'am," he answered softly, pulling the covers up higher and pulling her closer. "You just let me know when you're recharged," he chuckled.


	14. Chapter 14

He awoke to a dark room and an empty bed. Where had she gone? He pulled himself up to a sitting position and listened.

He heard her voice in the living room and decided to investigate. She had thoughtfully placed his crutches against the wall on his side of the bed, as well as a robe. He smiled, shaking his head. What didn't she think of? The last few days, it had been like she had anticipated his needs, even before he did. They had enjoyed their time alone together, making good use of it. Even his last session with Dr. Scot had gone well.

He slowly made his way into the living room, going carefully as his eyes adjusted to the dim light coming from the room.

"Yes, I understand that's what you think is best, but…." she was saying on the phone, her back to him. She sounded frustrated. Her silk robe swayed around her ankles as she paced around the room.

"Well, I'll see what I can do, but right now, I'm occupied with more pressing matters…..What's that? Oh, well, I think you know what I'm talking about. Please don't play dumb with me. I…"

Her stance told him she was growing irritated. He had witnessed it too many times towards himself not to recognize it now.

She sighed, exasperated. "Fine. I'll see if my contact knows anything and I'll get back to you…..No, I'm not turning my list over to you! Do you realize how many years it took me to cultivate…..Yes, yes, I understand that, but…"

He could imagine her rolling her eyes at this point. Who was she talking to? What were they asking her to do? He knew he was the "pressing matter" she referred to. What was he keeping her from? He frowned, his good mood of the past few days fading.

"That's fine. I'll be in touch."

She closed her phone and turned around, seeing Flint leaning against the doorway.

"Oh. How long have you been there?" she asked, trying not to sound guilty. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Who was that?"

She bit her lip, and he wondered if she was debating on lying to him.

"Just someone who thinks they need me for something. They really don't," she assured him quickly. "Their agents are perfectly qualified to do the same thing as I did. But, I promised them I'd keep an ear out for the information they're looking for."

"What am I keeping you from?" he asked. His tone might have been soft, but she heard the steel behind it and knew he wouldn't accept the lie she had been about to tell.

"It's nothing I can't do from here. Just some quick computer work, a call to one or two of my contacts, and I'll have the information they need. I really can't say more than that," she answered, her tone apologetic.

She hated seeing that look on his face. "You have a job to do, and I'm holding you back. I could get the same treatment at the VA Hospital as I am here," he reminded her. "There's no need for you to babysit me. There's even one close to my parents."

Her face hardened. "It's not babysitting." She looked at him, narrowing her eyes. "Is that how you see my role?"

He hesitated too long and saw the pain flicker in her eyes before she masked it. "You would've done the same for me, had our roles been reversed." She paused. "You would have, right?" She hated the fact she had to express her doubt of his feelings for her.

"I certainly wouldn't have had your resources," he answered dryly before he could stop himself.

"That doesn't answer my question." Her tone was soft, the hurt creeping in before she could prevent it.

"I would have been with you, yes," he finally answered, his tone exasperated. "Do we have to go through this now?"

"Do you even know why?" she asked, rubbing her temple where she felt the beginnings of a headache.

He sighed. "Let's not play this game, okay? Just come back to bed and we'll hash through whatever this is in the morning."

"No, I don't think so," she answered. "You go on - I might as well start on this job. I'll be in as soon as it's done," she lied. She wondered if her mother still had the coffee maker in the kitchen. She usually kept the basic necessities available.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. She was using work as a wall between them. It was an old trick she had often played.

"No, but thanks," she said, giving him a quick smile that didn't quite make it to her eyes. Turning, she headed for one of the smaller rooms that her mother had designed as an office. She closed the door firmly behind her.

Sighing, he made his way back to the bedroom, knowing he needed a pain pill and some sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

She stared sightlessly at the screen in front of her, her head throbbing to the rhythm of the blinking cursor. She had just reported to the CIA agent what he needed to know and she was typing an email to Hawk. It was easier than a phone call, she mentally shrugged. She really didn't feel like talking to anyone right now.

Sighing, she finished the email and hit "send." Sitting back, she waited for the response, knowing that he would be in front of his laptop at this time of evening, going over the reports.

He didn't disappoint her. Of course, he ended by asking how things were going. She gave the screen a twisted smile. Oh, lovely, she thought sarcastically. Here I thought having some time alone with one another would do us good. Instead, she had never felt so distant from Flint and he was literally a few rooms away from her at this very moment.

Was she just babysitting? The last few days, she hadn't been too sure of that answer. Most likely, that's how he saw it. Her true intention, she had realized, was to play house. How she had found her way of thinking about their relationship turn towards a more domestic scene, she didn't know. Maybe she was just getting old, she sighed, rubbing her head, and her hormonal clock had taken over.

No, their days lately, when they did see one another, were to exchange a few polite words and he would settle in front of the TV and she in front of her laptop. Sure, they'd be in the same room, but there was barely any communication going on between them.

When it came time to settle down for the night, he would take a pain pill and be asleep by the time she got in the bedroom. Lately, when he hadn't needed them as much, she would find herself keeping busy until she knew he was asleep. She would curl up next to him on the bed, but the empty feeling remained. Was she so scared of his rejection that she couldn't enter the room while he was awake? Old habits die hard, and she would find herself awake early and be out of bed before he had a chance to stir.

No, he was merely putting in his time until the doctor cleared him. Amy had kept her up on his progress, and seemed pleased with how it was going. She had even confided to her that she thought he would, in time, be cleared for field work again.

So, where did that leave her? She remembered the fit he had thrown when some of his personal items had been shipped from the base, along with some of hers. She should've known he wouldn't handle that well, seeing it as a sign of his days with GI Joe being that of the past. While she had pointed out to him that it wasn't like they had packed up his entire room, but only sent a few things, it hadn't helped. Instead, he had descended into one of his dark moods. She had retreated to the office.

She needed to get out, she decided. Glancing at Hawk's response one more time, she typed a quick reply. Reading it, she frowned. The words sounded stiff, formal – not at all like her. He would know something was up. Well, hell, she told herself, something is up. Her idea of a forced vacation had turned into a nightmare. Her idea of bringing the two of them closer together had definitely backfired.

Sighing, she hit "send," deciding it would have to do. She glanced at her cell phone, lying next to the laptop. Forcing herself to pick it up and stop hesitating, she dialed the familiar number.

"Shana," she began, grateful that she wasn't able to get in another word while her friend fussed at her for not calling. She then launched into what had been happening in her corner of the world while Allie sat back and listened.

Her friend stopped, realizing something was wrong.

"Allie, what's up? Normally I can't carry on a whole conversation by myself."

"I don't know. It seems you were doing a pretty good impression of it!" She tried to sound amused.

"It's not like you to cut off communication. It's not going well, is it?"

She sighed. Her friend knew her too well. "Not as I expected, no. I mean, he's making progress. Everyone seems really pleased by it. Dr. Scot even confided in me that he could very well return to active duty, that his injuries aren't quite as severe as they had once believed."

"But you don't sound happy. I would think the two of you, off together…." Shana's voice trailed off. "Is that the problem? You guys found that in the outside world, things aren't the same?"

Allie flinched at the sympathetic tone. "I wouldn't say it's exactly that. Only….I guess I overestimated how he felt about me and our future, I suppose."

"Maybe it's time a few of us came for a visit. If he's not mired in some deep depression, like he was before, I think he would be receptive. Plus, we'd like to see you, too!" There was a pause, and then, "Allie, listen. It's very typical of the caregiver to suffer some depression as well. You took on a heavy load. I've been doing some reading about it. I bet you haven't been taking care of yourself, have you? No, I can already tell! You've probably been cooped up in that apartment with him, maybe going out to sessions or the doctor's appointments, but then heading right back."

Allie flinched at the truth of her words. She had holed herself up, using the intel jobs the CIA and Hawk had thrown at her as an excuse to escape the monotony.

"Maybe you're right," she confessed to her friend. "Maybe both of us need to get out."

"Retail therapy? I can't see that going over too well…"

"No, not retail," she said, thinking of another place altogether. "I can save that for when you come to visit."

"True. I don't think he's quite up to that just yet! Hell, I don't think most people are!" she laughed.

It was good to hear her friend over the line, Allie realized, wondering why she hadn't called her before.

"So," she said, trying to sound casual and not as desperate as she felt, "when do you guys think you can make it up here?"

"Hmm. We have some time coming up actually this weekend. A few of us can road trip it up there, I'm sure!"

There was a pause, and then, "Allie? Don't wait for us to get there. I think you need to get out….on your own….I'm sure he's at the point where you can leave him for a bit, even if it's just for a walk around the block. I mean, I think you need to leave him for a couple of hours, at least. Take yourself out and get a new pair of shoes, or just something ridiculous! You've been neglecting your own needs. Hell, call a friend and go out together! It'll be good for both of you."

What she was saying was true, Allie realized. She had lost herself somewhere in this mess of trying to take care of everything. They often ordered dinner in, or picked up something on the way home from appointments.

"I'll try," she promised, knowing she couldn't guarantee it, but damned if she wouldn't try her hardest. Shana was right. Flint was at the point where she could leave him for awhile. Once she found herself, things would get better. The awkwardness would disappear and things would be right again. She was sure of it.


	16. Chapter 16

It had been another grueling session. While he was proud of the fact that he seemed to be improving each time, it was still frustratingly slow. Feeling bad about the confrontation that had put an emotional wall between them, he had consented to see the therapist Allie had recommended. The shrink hadn't told him anything more than he had figured out himself. A waste of time, he thought, but had made it to several other appointments because it was what she wanted him to do.

She was holed up in the small room she called an office again. He wasn't sure what it was this time, but she had mumbled about needing to double check something before reporting to the boss. He had no clue who "the boss" might be, or even who she was working for. She had then mumbled something about free-lancing and being sold to the highest bidder, accompanying her words with a characteristic eye roll.

He was just flipping channels, going through the stations without really seeing anything, when she emerged. Giving him a distracted smile, she disappeared into the bedroom. When she emerged, she was dressed in jeans and a sweater. He admired how well she filled out her choice of outfit, wondering what she was up to.

"I need to get out," she announced, inwardly flinching at how the words had burst out of her mouth.

He glanced at the clock. "Now? This time of night? Where would you be going?"

She fidgeted and glanced at the watch on her wrist. It was later than she had thought, but now that the idea of getting out had been placed in her head, she felt more anxious than ever. The air itself in the apartment was stifling.

"I'll be okay," she told him. An idea came to her head of somewhere she could go to unwind at this time of night and a smile flickered across her face.

"I don't like you going out this late," he told her, not wanting to start an argument, but feeling the need to voice his thoughts.

"I'm a big girl," she said, rolling her eyes. "You don't think I can handle myself? Gee, I guess all that training was for nothing," she said dryly.

He frowned. "If you're going out, then I'm coming with you."

"Why? You haven't wanted to leave the apartment for anything but doctor appointments. In fact, you haven't really shown any interest in spending any time doing anything other than watching TV and sleeping."

"Well, then, maybe you're not the only one who needs to get out," he declared, his eyes narrowed. Why didn't she want him to come with her? He was growing suspicious of this sudden need to get out.

"Fine, come with me, then," she said, rolling her eyes again, sounding exasperated.

He gave her a strange look. "I'm not sure why or how this has come about, but…" He reached for his crutch, than changed his mind. They had switched him to a walking cast and he had felt the need to use the crutch less and less.

She glanced at his ratty sweatpants and shirt with a telling look.

He took the hint. "Give me a minute or two to clean up." At least he had showered when he had gotten back from PT that afternoon.

She waited impatiently as five minutes turned to ten, stifling the urge to go check on him. She eyed the door, wondering how bad it would be if she just simply left. Somehow, she didn't think that's what Shana's advice had been about. Then again, neither had it been about him coming with her.

Fifteen minutes later, he stood in the doorway, an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry, didn't realize it would take that long," he muttered. She couldn't help but smile at the effort he had taken to clean up. His hair was damp from where he had tried to tame some of the layers that had been sticking up. He, too, had opted for jeans, accompanying it with a nice shirt she had bought for him. He was grateful that he didn't have to wear shorts with his cast anymore.

He clumped over to her and placed his hand at the small of her back. "You ready?" he asked her huskily, and she nodded. It had been awhile since he had voluntarily touched her this way. It felt nice, she thought.

"So, where are we going?" he asked her once they were in the elevator.

"Just a place I know. Nothing too fancy," she answered cryptically.

A frown marred his face. "Where exactly is this not-too-fancy place?"

She shrugged. "Not too far, just a short cab ride away. It won't look like much, but it's a good place filled with good people."

He tried to read her, but her face had grown impassive again. He sighed. He needed to try to break this wall that had grown between them.

She was right. "Connor's Pub" was in a blue collar section of town and didn't look like it had changed in 50 years.

Allie smiled fondly as she got out of the cab. "Some things never change," she murmured as they descended the small set of stairs into the basement bar.

"Little Allie Burnett, as I live and breathe!" declared the bartender, looking up as they came through the door. "It's been quite a while, lass!"

He came out from behind the bar and enveloped her in a huge bear hug. Flint was shocked to actually hear her giggle. He could count on one hand, possibly even one finger, the times he had heard her giggle before!

"I wasn't even sure if the place was still here!" she teased, managing to untangle herself from the burly older man's embrace.

"We're an institution!" the bartender roared, and the few patrons in the place raised their mugs in response. "They couldn't shut us down even if they wanted to!" He chuckled, then noticed Flint standing behind her. "Who's your friend? Is this your special someone, then?"

Still smiling, she turned to Flint and gestured. "This is Dash. He's…." she hesitated for a fraction of a second. What was he to her anymore? Boyfriend didn't seem quite right recently, but he was more than just her friend. "…with me," she finished.

"Good to meet you, lad!" declared Conner, crushing his hand in a firm grip. "Allie here is quite special to us, so I'm sure you're treating her right." The look he gave Flint indicated that if he didn't, there would be a price to pay.

"My Dad would bring me here when he was in town," Allie explained as they moved to a table, waving at a few of the older patrons that had been friends of her father's. "That was before the whole bringing your child to a pub was outlawed in the States," she smiled. "It would give my mother fits! Sometimes I think he did it just to annoy her," she sighed, the smile still playing on her face.

"Little Alison!" boomed a female voice, as two mugs of beer were placed before them. Allie jumped up and hugged the woman.

"It's good to see you too, Maggie," she whispered, wondering if she would be this strong in her older years.

"It's been years since you've been to see us! We were so sorry to hear of your Da's passing," Maggie said, shaking her head. "God rest his soul. He was a good man."

There were several mugs raised in the air in salute, and Allie acknowledged them with her own.

"Thank you," she replied. "You don't by chance still make the…."

"Aye, lass," Maggie said with a wink, "there's not much call for it nowadays, unless we get the true Scots in here, but I can oblige you and your young man!" The woman hustled away. Flint gave her a questioning look and Allie smiled at him.

"Don't ask. Just eat it. It'll be good."

He groaned. The last time she had said that to him, and he had found out what exactly kidney pie was made of….he was already worried about this mystery meal!

Several of the patrons came by to talk to her and Flint was surprised to hear all the stories about her father, which they were more than willing to share. The ones he really enjoyed were about the wild child she had been when she was younger!

She blushed through several of them, trying to get them to stop, which of course made the storyteller laugh and add more detail.

Maggie placed a dish in front of them with something fried on it. She patted Allie on the head affectionately, then leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Flint was surprised to see her smile freeze for a fraction of a second and if he had blinked, he would have missed it. He wondered what the older woman had told her.

"Try this," Allie told him instead when Maggie moved away. "You don't want to hurt her feelings!"

He poked at it cautiously with his fork. It kind of looked like fried calamari, but being that they were in a Scottish pub, he wasn't so sure.

Allie rolled her eyes, and plucked one off the plate and took a bite. "See?" she teased, after chewing and swallowing. "It's perfectly safe!"

Not to be outdone, he repeated her same action, surprised at the taste. It wasn't unpleasant, but he just couldn't place it.

"Oh no," she laughed, catching his look, "I've learned my lesson! Just enjoy it."

She got up casually, almost too casually, he thought, and said, "I'll be back. Don't look too lonely, or Conner will be over to entertain you," she chuckled.

If he didn't know her better, he'd think she was just heading for the restroom, but, well, he knew her too well. Whatever Maggie had told her, as well as her casual walk to the back of the bar….something was up. He watched her, trying not to be too obvious. He wasn't surprised to see her slip into a booth towards the back of the bar.

"Well, this is a surprise, my dear. I figured I could manage to go somewhere alone without getting hassled, but maybe that was expecting too much," the red-bearded man said caustically to her.

She gave a tight smile. "Uncle James. Maggie told me you were here. What brings you to Boston?"

"A personal trip, I assure you. I hear that you have taken a, um, break from the game?"

She nodded. "I'm sure your sources have filled you in on everything. I assumed since you weren't wearing the mask that this was not on 'company' time." Her tone softened and her body relaxed. Leaning slightly forward, she asked, "How have you been?"

He smiled, adopting the same pose. "You know how it goes. It was nice to escape reality for awhile. I hear you've had a tough break. I'm surprised at you. I didn't think you'd be giving up your career so easily."

She shrugged. "You'd do the same, if you were in that position." She gave him a wicked smile. "Or maybe not. I'm sure your girlfriend would be a total bitch under the same circumstances."

He sighed. "She can be a bit…touchy at times. I can only imagine how your stubborn boyfriend is acting at this time." He paused. "Will he be returning to his former position?"

She shrugged. "I really don't know and honestly, uncle, is it something I can really disclose to you right now?"

He chuckled. "No, perhaps not. I hadn't really anticipated on running into you here, but then again, I'm not surprised. It was your father's favorite hangout."

They both sat quietly for a moment, thinking of the man. James sighed. "I still miss him."

"Me too."

"Well, as much as I've enjoyed our little détente, it's time I have to return to reality. Good luck with your newest venture and I have to be honest – I hope not to face you again. Seek another line of work."

She smiled. "And I could say the same to you, Uncle. But," she shrugged, "who are we to follow our own advice?"

"Stubborn Scots, that's what," he chuckled, patting her shoulder affectionately. "You were always one of my favorites. Pity."

He walked off and after a few moments, Allie returned to her table.

Flint looked at her questioningly. "You okay?" he asked.

She gave him a quick smile. "Sure, why not?"

He shook his head. He didn't know what she and the red-bearded man had discussed, but he assumed it had been one more friend of her father's. He just wondered why she had been so secretive about it.

They stayed for awhile longer until Allie could tell Flint was getting tired. She made the excuse of being tired and hugged Connor, Maggie, and several of the lingering patrons goodbye, promising to visit again.

She shook her head in the cab ride home. "I swear, it's like time stops in there," she commented wonderingly. "If they didn't look older, I'd swear it was 20 years ago and my Da was just lingering in the kitchen, giving Maggie a hard time." She briefly frowned, thinking that if it were 20 years ago, she and her uncle's meetings wouldn't have to be so clandestine either.

Shana had been right. The outing had done her good, even if it hadn't been a solo trip. She squeezed Flint's hand in the cab and rested her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, grateful that something had begun to crumble the wall between them. He only hoped it continued to crumble.


	17. Chapter 17

"So," she began, cuddling up to him in bed a few nights later, knowing he was close to sleep, "Shana and a few others are coming up this weekend for a visit. I hope you don't mind."

He mumbled something, and she knew her timing had been spot on. He was too close to sleep to argue, but would remember at some point what she had said. If not, she could always tell him he had agreed to it. After all, wasn't a mumble an assent? She smiled.

He had heard her, but didn't have the strength at the moment to answer. How did women know just when to hit men with these things? If she wanted to see their friends, then fine. He had to admit, he wouldn't mind seeing them as well. Rehab had been going well, and he was hoping to be cleared for duty soon, even if it was on a limited basis for now. He'd talk Hawk into giving Allie her position back. He wasn't quite sure she had been all that truthful when she had said she had resigned.

"Are things going any better between you two?" Amy asked her on the phone the next day. "I was hoping with his latest news, he'd be a bit easier to deal with."

"What latest news?" Allie asked, confused. She hadn't been going to his sessions with him lately, trying to give him a bit more independence and herself some more private time. Whatever they had been doing seem to be helping their relationship, and she had seen less dark moods or depression on his part.

"Hmm. He didn't tell you? Well, he might be saving it as a surprise, but you're an actress…you can act surprised later, right? Anyway," Amy hustled on, "he's been cleared for limited active duty. Kind of like a desk job. He's almost at the point where he can do the exercises on his own and once he's cleared of the walking cast, he should be good to go! Well, I mean, with some training. I know you guys are kind of in a hard core unit, right?"

"Yeah," Allie answered slowly, glancing towards the bedroom where she knew Flint was taking a shower. "You could call it that. Well, we're having some of our friends from the unit up this weekend, so maybe he wanted to surprise us all."

"Now don't get your dander up, girl. He has a good reason for not telling you! How did he react to you telling him about this weekend?"

"Well, he hasn't argued against it," she began, glancing once more at the bedroom door.

Amy giggled. "I bet you told him right before he fell asleep! Or better yet, right after the two of you…."

"Okay, then," Allie interrupted quickly. "Gotta go. You going to join us for dinner on Saturday?"

"And miss your signature dish? Are you kidding? I'd kill for a home-cooked meal! Plus, I'd like to meet your friends." She paused. "How is Dash going to take it?"

"I haven't really told him yet about us, but I promise to do it before you come over. Just remember how military men are, ok?"

"Oh, Dash is a sweetie, and he really only has eyes for you."

"I actually wasn't talking about him. Some of the guys coming are a little, well, overzealous?"

Amy laughed. "Don't worry. I'll be able to handle that. I can always pull my ace card, right?"

Allie smiled. "Just don't pull me into it!"

"Your secrets are safe with me!"

Flint came out, his hair still damp, looking at her questioningly as she hung up the phone.

"Who was that?"

Well, it was now or never.

"That was Amy."

"Amy? As in Dr. Scot? What did she want?"

"To talk to me." Allie stood up from the chair she had been curled in and sauntered over to him. "You wouldn't be mad at me if I told you something?" She pressed herself to him and lightly nipped his lips.

"Hmm. This should be good if you're prefacing it with this," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her.

"It's just that I've been keeping something from you. I don't want you to be mad," she sighed, rubbing her hands along his arms. They had changed the extra room into a weight room and she could tell he was already getting himself back into shape.

"You'd better tell me quick before I get too distracted," he growled.

"Well, just that Amy and I are good friends from a long time back. We were roommates at one time."

He was confused. "Why would that make me mad?"

She shrugged, still distracting him with her hands. "We weren't sure how you'd take it. And," she added quickly, "I've invited her over to dinner for Saturday night, when the gang's here."

He had a feeling she wasn't quite telling him everything, but she had him so distracted he wasn't so sure he cared.

She gave him a lingering, deep kiss, then pulled away. "Speaking of Saturday," she smiled, "I need to go out and get some things. I shouldn't be gone too long."

"Now?"

She almost laughed at his expression. She hadn't meant to quite carry it that far, but knew if she didn't get out now, she wouldn't have time later.

"Yes. Rain check?"

"You'd better believe it!" he growled.

She just hoped Amy didn't slip up on Saturday and reveal too much.


	18. Chapter 18

The visit had been going really well. Old habits die hard, Allie thought with a smile, watching the guys shouting over a football game on the TV. She glanced at Shana and shrugged.

"I don't think they moved since we left to go shopping over 3 hours ago!" she said, shaking her head.

Shana smiled. "Yeah, it's not like there's any culture in this town to visit, no historical places or museums!" she teased.

"Hey, if it had been the right season, I'm sure Allie would've gotten us tickets," Duke quipped from the sofa, not even turning his head. "What, you'd rather us do this in a bar? Last time we went to one, Ettienne got us kicked out!"

"Hey! I can't help that little pipsqueak tried to start something with me! Little fishhead," he defended.

The girls exchanged a look, as if to say nothing much had changed.

"Just remember my friend Amy is coming for dinner, so you might want to make yourselves presentable," Allie called out as she made her way to the kitchen.

Flint raised his eyebrows at his friends. "Yeah, she's a pretty hot little number," he stated.

"Really?" murmured Ettienne, interested.

Allie leaned her head out. "Cut it out, Dash!"

Shana smiled at her. "Is she?"

"Amy? Yeah, she is, but I don't think she's going to find the guys very interesting."

"Really?" Shana gave an evil smile. "Let's not share that information with them. Wait, does Flint know?"

"No."

"Definitely don't share the information. Now, what's this you're cooking tonight?"

Allie smiled. "Surprise."

"Wait, it's not one of those scary Scottish dishes Flint's always warning us about?"

"Not Scottish."

"Okay then. What can I do to help?"

Marvin poked his head in the kitchen. "So what's on the menu for tonight? What can I do to help?"

"You don't want to watch the game?"

"Nah. My team's getting nailed. I feel the need to chop up something, good and fine."

Allie grabbed a bag of vegetables from the refrigerator. "Try these."

She was pleased how well the dinner turned out. She didn't often cook, but when she took the time, she liked to do it well. Marvin was usually considered the chef around the Joes, but he had discovered Allie's secret a long time ago. The only thing was, he liked to create all the time. She only cooked when the mood struck her.

She and Shana exchanged another glance as one of the guys made another obvious pass at Amy over the dinner table. Amy smiled and politely deflected it with humor.

"So, being a doctor must keep you pretty busy. Do you find it interferes with your social life a lot?" asked Ettienne in an innocent voice.

Shana about choked on her drink.

Amy smiled. "A little. I'm tired at the end of the day. Especially when I have difficult patients like Dash there," she teased, sending a smile his way. "But I do find some time to unwind now and then."

"So how does the good doctor like to unwind?" asked Ettienne.

"Oh, the usual. Boston has some good clubs if you're in the mood for that, or the movies, and my girlfriend and I have season passes to the opera," Amy finished in her cheerful manner.

This time it was Ettienne who about choked on his food. Duke thumped him on the back several times, trying not to laugh.

Flint sent a speculative look Allie's way. When she had said they were good friends, roommates, had she meant….? No, surely she couldn't have, he told himself quickly. While he didn't mind others' sexual preferences, he didn't see Allie doing that. Right? Maybe he'd have to ask her later exactly what kind of good friends they were!

Allie got up as she heard a knock on the door. She rolled her eyes, hoping it wasn't the "good Senator" popping in for a visit. Then again, she had a whole room full of military, so she was sure he'd turn tail and run if it was.

She was grateful the diners couldn't see the front door from where they were sitting.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, staring at the last person she expected to see.


	19. Chapter 19

"I had nowhere else to go," he began apologetically as she stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her.

She was grateful he wasn't wearing his mask. If that had been the case, she didn't know how she'd explain his presence here to the group inside.

"This is not a good time," she sighed, glancing back at the closed door. "I have….guests."

Her uncle sighed. "I know. I wouldn't have come if there had been any other choice."

"Why _are_ you here? I figured you had places to hole up in just about every city."

"It's kind of a complicated story," he muttered, embarrassed. "Let's just say Boston's no longer a safe haven for me, not when _she_ found out. She, um, sent someone after me, and well…" he paused, looking around, "I don't quite feel safe standing here in the hallway right now."

Allie crossed her arms, sighing. "You expect me to bring you inside and what, have you join the others for dinner?" she asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

He sighed. "I realize this is not the ideal situation for either one of us, but I don't think you want to linger out here any longer. While you can come up with an excuse for me, do you really want to explain the others who could be here any minute?"

She realized there was no easy solution, and she couldn't turn him away. He was family and more importantly, he was her father's brother. She couldn't just throw him to the wolves, not like this.

"I swear, if this is over another woman and she comes to the door, she can have you," she muttered, quickly typing the code in the keypad near the lock.

There was laughter coming from the dining room and Allie hoped they stayed distracted long enough to hide her uncle in one of the rooms.

"Follow me," she said in a low voice, hearing the click of the door behind her.

"Go down the hall and the last room on the right is a spare bedroom. Don't make a sound….I'll go in and try to distract them." She glanced back at him as she began to make her way towards the dining room. "You're out of here as soon as possible, got it?"

He nodded, pausing outside the dining room where he could hear the others asking his niece what had kept her so long.

"Just a delivery boy who had gotten on the wrong floor. It didn't look interesting, so I decided to send him off in the right direction," she lied smoothly, smiling at the group. "What did I miss?"

"I was just telling them about our trip to Sweden and how the great linguist was confused by the man's English!" Amy teased.

Allie gave her a mock frown, hands on her hip. "It's sad when my limited Swedish was worse than his!"

"Yeah, but he was nice to look at," sighed Amy, giving her a grin, which caused some of the others to look at her strangely.

"True," Allie agreed, sending a flirtatious glance to Flint. "It more than made up for his horrible directions." She paused, then asked, "Okay, who's up for dessert and some coffee?"

"I'll help you," Flint said, getting up, following her into the kitchen.

"Aren't they cute?" Shana teased. "You'd almost think they're married," she joked to the others.

In the kitchen, Flint stood behind her and she found herself blocked in.

"So, who was really at the door?" he asked her, taking the pie from her hand and setting it back down on the counter.

Allie turned back to the counter and began cutting the pie into slices. "What do you mean?" she asked, stalling for time.

He sighed. "How long have we worked together? You can fool the others, but not me. You were gone too long for a simple delivery mishap. Who was at the door?"

She continued to cut the slices, going over the cuts she had already made. He grabbed the knife and set it down.

"Allie, it can't be something bad enough that you can't tell me!" He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. "Baby, what is it?"

Allie bit her lip. How did she tell him that her uncle, one of the enemy, was hiding in her back bedroom most likely because he got caught by his girlfriend with another woman?

Flint's eyes narrowed. "Do I need to do a search of the apartment?"

She let out the breath she had been holding in. "It's nothing, just a little family matter. I have this, um, eccentric uncle who needs a place to spend the night. I didn't want it to ruin the good time."

"Is this the same guy you were talking to in the pub?"

She looked surprised for a moment, not realizing he had seen her with him. "Yes," she whispered. "He's kind of mentally unbalanced. Not violent," she said quickly, seeing his look, "but, well, he's not good around others. He'll be out of here later tonight, I promise. I couldn't turn him away," she sighed. "He's family."

"Honey, I know how much your family means to you," Flint told her, his grip on her shoulder lessening with her tale. "What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing, really, just don't say anything if you see him, okay? I'm hoping he'll stay out of sight until the others have left for the hotel."

He kissed her forehead. "See? That wasn't so hard. Trust me, we have our share of weirdos in my family, too." He picked up the pie and she grabbed the plates and forks and followed him back into the dining room.


	20. Chapter 20

The gang was getting ready to head back to the hotel when there was another knock on the door.

Oh no, Allie thought, hearing a door open in the hallway. Why now?

Flint met her at the door. "Another relative?" he asked, his face blank. She couldn't tell if he was teasing or not.

She shrugged. "No one visits us for weeks that we're here, and now we're the hit of the building," she tried to joke. "You go back to the others. I'll take care of it."

The knock sounded again, harder this time. Why weren't these guests being screened? Allie groaned to herself.

She opened the door and seeing Senator Adams standing there, she opened the door a little wider.

"Senator, this is…unexpected. How can I help you?"

"I'm sorry, Alison," he said sadly and stepped forward, followed by two men holding their guns at his back. "We need to come in."

"This is not a good time," she began, but stopped when one of the guns moved in her direction. Sighing, she opened the door wider. "Why me?" she said aloud.

Senator Adams gave her a sad smile as he stepped into the room. The two men, dressed in trench coats with hats pulled low over their faces, followed him.

"Allie….what the hell?" Flint stepped into view and took in the situation. "Is this another uncle?" he asked dryly.

"No," she sighed. "You remember Senator Adams. It seems he or his friends apparently need something."

Duke, Gung Ho, Roadblock, and Scarlett took in the scene as well. Allie could hear Gung Ho crack his knuckles from where she was standing.

"As you can see, I have guests," began Allie, adopting a haughty tone. "What exactly is it I can help you with?"

"We've traced our quarry to your abode," began one of the trench coat men.

"We'd like him back, please," finished the other.

Allie rubbed her forehead. "Really?" she exclaimed aloud. "You seriously expect to come here to a room full of Joes and ask a question like that?" Her voice dripped sarcasm.

"We had heard," began one.

"That you retired," finished the other.

She stood with her hands on her hips, angry at the whole situation. "Why is it nothing ever normal can happen around here?" she muttered. "What makes you think he's here?"

"You said he!" began one.

"You know who we're talking about," finished the other.

It was Flint's turn to roll his eyes. "You were the one that said "him" first. What game is this?" he asked angrily.

Allie couldn't believe her teammates hadn't figured this one out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amy reach into her purse and pull out an object. She nodded at Allie, who knew she needed to distract the two men.

"At least let the Senator go," she said. "He's served his purpose."

"But he'll call the police!" both said in unison.

"Dirk, go back to your place and don't worry about the police. I think we can get this all figured out," Allie explained to him in a soothing tone. The poor man was pale – he had probably never even been mugged before. "Next time a crime bill comes up, think of this. Or the GI Bill," she added with a smile.

The Senator slowly turned and walked out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

"Now, exactly who is your quarry?" Allie asked sweetly, bringing the two men's attention back on her. It was all the time Amy needed. She zapped one of the men, and both went down.

Amy looked confused. "I just got one…what happened?"

"Twins," explained Allie. She looked at the rest of the group. "What do you want to do with them?"

"You mean to tell us the Crimson twins just knock on your door looking for someone? What kind of messed up place is this?" asked Gung Ho incredulously.

Scarlett stepped forward. "We're really not equipped to transport these two, but I can't see wasting an opportunity." She flipped open her cell phone and called Hawk and explained the situation.

Roadblock gave Allie a big grin. "Man, you sure do know how to throw a dinner party!"

Flint stepped closer to her. "Maybe we need to talk about this eccentric uncle of yours."

Allie gave him a quick smile. "Or we could let it wait for the morning?" she suggested quietly.

"Let's get these two secured, in case they wake up. That was quick thinking," Duke said, nodding at Amy.

She shrugged. "I interned in New York. Part of the training."

"Who were they looking for?" Scarlett wondered aloud. "And why would they think he'd be here?"

"Let me find something to secure them with," Allie volunteered, needing to avoid the deeper questions.

"I'll keep the taser at the ready in case they try something," Amy volunteered. Gung Ho, chuckling, volunteered to help her, pulling up two chairs for them.

"I'll help you find some rope," Scarlett told Allie pointedly.

They went into the small office, and Scarlett shut the door. "Okay, what gives?"

Allie started, but Shana held up her hand. "Don't start the BS with me. Just tell me the truth."

"My uncle's in the other room," Allie grudgingly admitted. "They're looking for him. He came first, begging asylum."

"With an apartment full of Joes. Nice," Shana commented, rolling her eyes. "And you said yes? Are you nuts?"

"He didn't come to Boston as part of Cobra," Allie explained quickly. "In fact, he's not even wearing the mask! Even he needs to take a break now and then…what else could I do?"

"Say no?"

"Kind of hard when he's your uncle. Wearing the mask, he's Destro," Allie tried to explain. "Without it, he's just my Uncle James. Granted, he probably was caught messing around with another woman," she sighed, "and his girlfriend sent the two after him, but…" her voice trailed off and she shrugged helplessly.

Shana sighed. "Okay, we'll leave your uncle out of it for now. I think Hawk will be happy enough we caught the twins." She paused. "Then again, if we wait long enough, will the Baroness come to the door? The Commander himself?"

Allie rolled her eyes. "Knock it off!" she said, chuckling.

"Okay, well, we'd better look for that rope."

Allie held up extension cord. "Not sure about rope, but how about this?"

"Any port in a storm. Let's go."

They walked into a scene of normalcy….with the exception of the two guys on the floor. Gung Ho and Amy were chatting happily, the taser resting lightly in Amy's hand. The others had turned on the TV to catch the sport highlights of the evening and were sitting on the couch, rehashing the game.

Scarlett shook her head. "If this is our new normal, this has gotten really weird."

Duke looked down at his phone as it buzzed. "They're here. Parked in the alley behind the building. Want us to bring down the two unobtrusively."

Duke grinned. "Not sure who's writing this, but unobtrusively? Been giving someone a vocabulary lesson, Flint?"

Scarlett held out the two extension cords. "You might want to use this, just in case. They're pretty wily."

They removed the trench coats, tied them up, then put the coats back on. The group stood back to look at their handiwork.

"Not sure how _unobtrusive_ this is. Hope we're not too _obtrusive_," Gung Ho smirked.

"Why does this remind me of one of those drinking games where you have to take a shot any time someone says a certain word?" Scarlett groaned.

"Not a bad idea," Gung Ho grinned.

"The fire stairs are this way," Allie said, opening the door and pointing to an unmarked alcove near the elevators. "Think you'll be okay using that."

They all stared blankly at one another for a minute.

"So, who draws the short straw?" Roadblock finally asked.

Flint grinned. "For once, I'm out. Injured leg," he called from the couch.

Scarlett, Amy, and Allie chorused, "They're bigger than we are!"

The three grumbled, but Gung Ho and Roadblock each threw one over their shoulder, with Duke leading the procession.

"This might be interesting to watch," Scarlett speculated, and the three women followed the men out into the hallway.

Flint shook his head, not believing the events of the night. He heard a door open and close softly. Looking up, he found himself looking at an older man with a red beard and reddish-brown hair. They stared at each other for a moment.

"Are they gone?" asked the older man, the timbre of his voice a familiar sound to Flint.

"You should be safe," Flint shrugged. "Next time, though, pick another place."

The man grudgingly agreed, nodding his head. "Trust me, I will. Boston's off my map," he sighed.

He nodded once more, then left by the front door.

Flint knew he probably should have detained him, but for Allie's sake, he didn't. Instead, he turned his attention back to the TV, watching the scores scrawl across the screen. When had their life ever been normal, anyway? he thought with a small smile. Seems things were getting back to their version of normal.


End file.
